


Happy Birthday, Percy Jackson

by betweentowns



Series: Little Moments Make Lives [4]
Category: Percy Jackson & The Olympians (Movies), Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson Smut, Birthday Sex, Canon Compliant, F/M, Multiple Orgasms, One Shot, Oral Sex, Percy is 24, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, a little fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-14 21:20:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11791692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betweentowns/pseuds/betweentowns
Summary: It's Percy's twenty-fourth birthday, but he already has everything he could possibly ask for.





	Happy Birthday, Percy Jackson

**Author's Note:**

> OK, OK I know that it's technically not Percy's birthday until the 18th, but I'm leaving for vacation today and I'm too impatient to wait to post it when I get back. Enjoy.

It was the 18th of August.

But it didn't feel like it was _Percy's_ birthday.

"One more, Annabeth. Come on, for me. Please."

In response, Annabeth just moans. Even _she's_ not sure if the noncommittal sound is one of frustration or permission. Honestly, Percy was a handful. 

"Seaweed Brain! What do you want for your birthday?" She had asked him last week, as she was preparing to leave for work.

In complete honesty, she was paying more attention to her own reflection in their bathroom mirror as she ran a curling wand through the loose parts of yesterday's hair style.

She was expecting the answer he'd given her every August for the past 12 years. ("You don't have to get me anything, Annabeth.") Some years he'd even gotten a little frisky with it. ("World peace, Annabeth.") To which she'd most likely answer, "Whatever. You don't deserve anything, anyways." (He did.) And then she'd order/make/buy the nicest, most thoughtful last minute present she could think of. (And Annabeth was a good thinker.)

So she was surprised when he had replied, "You." His voice was a little raspy, endearing bed head popping into the bathroom.

She eyes him in the mirror, raises a perfectly shaped blonde brow. "Me? You already have me."

He hums, then steps all the way into their tiny bathroom, wrapping his long arms around her bare torso. "True, _but_ —" he punctuates the first word with a kiss to her neck, the second with a small nip at her throat.

"I'm gonna be late for work," Annabeth interrupts. Not that she wasn't enjoying this. Not that she didn't purposefully dress in only her bra and the pencil skirt (the tight cream one that Percy loved to peel off her skin.) There was something so nice about knowing she could walk around in as many different states of undress as she could think up because it was _their_ apartment. There was something even nicer about the fact that Percy still found her sexy, whether she was trying or not. Plus, Percy would be twenty-four next week. They were adults now — she could wear her most lacy bra around the house while her boyfriend cooked perfectly adult-like blue pancakes with chocolate chips. It was allowed.

"You can be a little late."

"No, I can not." She could, actually. But Annabeth had promised herself a long time ago that no man would come between her and her goals. Especially not Perseus Jackson. Not even if said man was all fresh out of bed and teenage-boy horny. Not even if he was currently giving her his best puppy dog eyes in the mirror. 

"Fine," He relents, but not until he's kissed her a bit senseless. "That's what I want for my birthday, anyways."

"Me?" Annabeth repeats like before, a little dazed. Percy could be an exceptional kisser when he wanted to be.

"You," he said — firmly, in his I-am-a-Hero-Of-Olympus-and-will-take-no-shit voice.

She was still a little confused, but she was kind of getting the gist. Or at least she thought she had picked up enough context clues to be ready for August 18th.

But Percy Jackson was always the tone of surprise.

This year, his birthday fell on a Friday. Which meant, Sally had off from work and was prepared to host "the best twenty-fourth birthday party any twenty-four-year-old had ever had." Her words, not Annabeth's. Words that had made Percy cringe slightly. ("Stop saying it mom, twenty four is _old."_ ) Which made Annabeth smack the back of his head. ( _I'm_ twenty-four, Percy!") ("And did I mention that you haven't aged a day in twelve years?") Cheeky bastard. He's lucky she loved him.

Loved him enough to keep her distance at the party. Close enough to offer her presence, but letting him enjoy time with Sally, Paul, and the rest of the party guests. After all, she reminded herself, she got to see Percy everyday. Mostly, she kept the conversation going, steering the assorted partygoers to safe, appropriate topics when necessary, considering Percy's mortal friends from work didn't quite need to hear about the Oracle of Delphi's latest vision. ("But this ones _good,_ Annabeth.") (You say that every _time,_ Rachel.)

She was so caught up with her job that she almost didn't notice the looks Percy would occasionally shoot her from beneath his lashes before hopping back into a conversation like nothing had happened. _Almost._

And when they had returned home and Percy had wrapped an arm around her, already tugging at the zipper on her dress, while using his other arm to lock the front door, Annabeth thought she knew what to expect.

A little birthday sex, maybe a special birthday blow job. Not _too_ crazy, but birthday present enough. After all, blow jobs were called _jobs_ for a reason — they were tedious. Eating out got its name because it's a _privilege._

When they're all naked and breathy and finally in their bed, he snakes an arm around her waist so they're flush against each other.

"You're gonna be a good girl tonight, right Wise Girl? Gonna be nice and good for me and give me anything I want for my birthday, huh?" Percy's moving against her so his length is teasing her, right where she needs him the most, but not quite in her yet.

She plays along, already shuddering. "Yeah, Perc. Anything you want, baby." Anything to get him to fuck her the way she wants right now.

And he does. He goes slow, then fast, then slow again, every thrust hitting that little spot that makes her see stars. Annabeth kind of forgets it's _Percy's_ birthday. In her defense, how could it not be her _own_ birthday, when _Annabeth_ was feeling this good?

She comes twice before he pulls out of her, and comes himself, in hot, messy spurts all over her belly. It's the kind of thing she'd usually complain about, but she's a little out of it right now, and the face Percy made while he came was kind of worth it. And it _was_ his birthday, after all.

She's still a little out of it when Percy eases his way down her body with his lips and starts sucking on her swollen clit. There's no warning whatsoever, so she _screams._ Screams so loud, that somewhere in the back of her head she feels bad for the lady in the apartment next door. Somewhere _really_ far in the back of her head though, because now Percy was pushing one of his long fingers into her. Then another. Then _another._

 _"Percy._ Oh my _gods."_ It's not the only thing Annabeth whines as she comes again, but to be honest, the rest sounds like a garbled mess, even to her own ears.

He trails his fingers, sticky with her own cum, back across her belly, up to her face to cup her chin and kiss her again.

She wraps her arms around his neck and lets him lap his tongue lazily against hers. It's a couple of minutes before she realizes the sweet nothings he's murmuring into her mouth aren't just nothing. "Another. One more, Beth. You got one more in you?" She knows he's really turned on when he starts pulling out the nicknames. Beth, Annie - she can feel him against her thigh, hard again.

And she knows now that "one more," actually means the fourth. As in, four orgasms in one night. Frankly, she wasn't quite sure she could handle one more, not the way Percy liked to make her orgasms sneak up on her, hot and tight, seemingly under control as it churned low in her belly, until it ripped right through her - hard.

"It's my birthday, Annie," Percy reiterates for the thousandth time today, tracing the line of her jaw with his tongue."

She rolls out from underneath him, eyes the digital clock on the nightstand on her side of the bed. It reads almost two in the morning. She doesn't want to say that it's technically not his birthday anymore though, so even though she's so spent, she climbs on top of him clumsily and rides him until they're both wimpering.

"That's it, baby. You're so good for me. So pretty and sexy riding me like this. Gonna make you come all over me one more time." And he does.

This time, they finish in unison, except her orgasm leaves her shaking a little, with tears in her eyes. _Gods._ So good, but so _much._

They lie there for a minute. It's the middle of August, and their air conditioning sucks, so it's too hot to really cuddle, but not too hot for Annabeth to lay her head across Percy's chest so he can rub gentle circles into the small of her back. "You okay?" he asks, into her hair.

She nods, hums a little. She was tired as hades, but also super content.

"We should take a shower."

At this, Annabeth pulls her head off of him and props her head against his chest to look him in the eye. Sea green on stormy grey. "Percy. Really. I'm all out. For real, this time."

"Not to have sex," he yawn-laughs. "We're a mess."

The shower is nice, the warm water allowing Annabeth to stay in her half-asleep state as she leans her head into the space between Percy's shoulder blades. She wraps her arms loosely around his waist, and his tall frame keeps most of the water from the shower head from flat out smacking her in the face. When she reaches up to rub shampoo — hers, strawberry-lemonade scented —through his hair, she's happy to hear him sigh contentedly.

It's the best feeling ever to know that the person she loves the most in this world loves her too, just as much.

Only Percy could make her feel like it's _her_ birthday when it's actually his own. But if she's being honest with herself, everyday with Percy Jackson sorta feels like a birthday.

When they get back in bed — still naked, but this time, clean, towel dried, and smelling like pretty, summery drinks — Percy tucks her into his arms immediately and says, "I love you, Annabeth," instead of 'goodnight.'

And instead of 'I love you too', she replies "Happy Birthday, Percy."

They know what each other meant. There's never any need for explanations with Percy, not after all they've been through.

Everyday she wakes up next to him in their bed, she has to remind herself that it's not a dream. That Percy was _hers_ and the wars were behind them and that he wasn't going anywhere, anymore. The overwhelming, yet familiar I-really-love-my-boyfriend feeling in her chest is enough to make her send a quick prayer to whoever's listening, thank them for keeping her thick-headed, "trouble-finds-me," boyfriend safe for another whole year. It's kind of a miracle, really.

Percy's eyelashes flutter as he begins to snore softly.

"Here's to twenty-four more," Annabeth whispers into the warm room, before falling asleep herself.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm clearly still working on the whole writing smut thing, but I hope you guys liked it, all the same. Happy early birthday, Percy!


End file.
